We're All Just Performers
by Mischievass
Summary: Upon receiving his sentence from the Allfather, an unexpected turn of events forces Loki to end up in a place he could have never expected, due to the actions of none other than Thor. On Midgard, Kiden has just entered fresh hell. Is it possible to rebound after such pain? Does Loki still have the capacity to care? A new threat is stirring and time is short.
1. Introduction

_Disclaimer: I do not own marvel nor am I affiliated to them in any way. Marvel holds full rights over their characters. The plot and original characters belong to me._

**Introduction**

Light breached the cell before he could begin to gather his senses about him, hands with vice-like grips raising him as his head throbbed on relentlessly. Was it finally the time? It may as well be. He wished only for everything to be over with, to be finished with whatever it might have been that he had left, if anything at all.

It was almost poetic. The tragic prince once plummeted to the depths, brought back again by the one who insisted upon calling him brother, only to be sentenced to a fate no one could have foreseen. When the allfather had made his ruling short days ago – had it been days? He couldn't tell, the cell was dark and he was too tired to mind anymore – even Thor had been shocked, outraged.

Loki could not get the thunderous shouts, furious, the _pleas_, out of his mind. Even Odin had turned his cheek to the events as they unfolded before him. His golden son making a scene unlike any other, with only the warriors three to thank for regaining control once half the royal guard had become victim to one hammer in particular.

Loki had not said a word. Inwardly he could not tell if he was burning or relieved, or maybe it was utter resignation. Things had just begun to meld together since his arrival on Asgard: the confrontation with Odin, Thor's reaction, catching Sif's gaze and even seeing that she too was affected by the punishment to be laid upon him, watching Frigga cover her mouth with her hands as he was pulled off to that damned cell. Part of him remembered the smile he had mustered for his mother that day.

Or had it been a smirk?

Knowing himself well enough, it was probably the latter.

It's not as though it mattered anyways, since today was the day Loki was to die.

* * *

Thunder reverberated through the ground with each passing minute, effectively filling the tight space she was already enclosed in.

Flies landed on the thin sheen of sweat that had surfaced on her skin, matted with grime and stinking of salt and copper as the humid air seemed to become more suffocating with every passing moment. 'Don't move, don't make a sound' he had said before he walked out. He knew what he was doing far better than her and so she had complied. He had left approximately twenty minutes prior without so much as communicating through her earpiece to notify her he was still alive.

_Clint, where are you? _Kiden inched forwards but didn't shift from her knelt position. A window to her right creaked in response to the winds from outside, but was still hardly audible over the drumming thunder, lightning illuminating the small room as well every couple of seconds. She grit her teeth as a crackling sound – akin to that of getting flashbanged if she were to relate it with anything – pounded against her eardrums and sent her back onto her ass in shock.

"Kiden," His voice was hardly more than a whisper, static almost making the word too jumbled for her to discern, "you alright?"

She breathed a sigh of relief before responding: "Twenty minutes I've been sitting here getting crapped on by flies. Twenty minutes, asshole." He laughed on the other side.

"I'll take that as a yes. Pretty sure we're clear, I'm just outside. They can't send a helo in this but a truck should be here in t-minus five."

"Alright. On my way out now."

She wiped my hands on her pants hastily before gripping the rifle, slung across her shoulder by a strap that was becoming growingly more and more irritating as time went on. A countertop to the left served as a standing aid while she kicked out my legs to get some feeling back after crouching for so long.

"Take your time. I'll just be out here."

"Shush."

Switching the safety of the gun off, she stepped towards the door and shouldered it open, the wind resisting with some difficulty.

"Looks like someone's going to need a shower, huh?" He asked, still speaking through the earpiece. She glanced up and caught sight of him, perched comfortably in a tree between a spot where two branches formed a fork. He waved with the hand currently holding his pistol and even from the ground, she could see the smirk.

"Go eat your crumbs or something. It was fucking hot in the-"

His expression switched in a split second - "_DOWN NOW_!"

In the moment it took for her to react it happened. A fraction of a second to late and she felt the jolt forwards, pressure on the back of her leg followed by a stagger forwards as she dropped, bracing the fall with her palms.

The shot of retort from none other than Clint rang out in a pause between the recurring thunderclaps. If there was anything or anyone she could rely on more to take out the assailant than him... Well, there wasn't. She blinked as she raised her head, frowning in confusion as he literally leaped the distance down from his vantage point and sprinted the rest.

"Hold on, Kiden."

More confusion on her part, accompanied by a: "What?"

Ignoring her, he pressed his fingers to his earpiece and began shouting something inaudible with a sense of urgency.

Before the pain came at least she was able to breathe. As the initial surge of adrenaline died down, a feeling like boiling water began to sprout from her thigh. Then it was a branding iron. Then it was an ice pick that someone had stuck into a fireplace, digging through the skin and burning every single inch of tissue around it within contact. Light-headedness brought on dizziness, and her eyes struggled to focus. She slipped off her knee sideways and bit her lip to keep down the cries the pain was about to elicit.

"Kiden,_ Kiden_ look at me," she followed the voice, "do not move. Stay calm and release tension, alright?"

_No panic, no shock, stay conscious._

Forcing deep breaths through her nose as he hovered over me, the realisation began to kick in.

_Don't lose it, eyes open. Did the thunder get louder? _

_Not possible. That's just your heart. _

_Oh, right._

"No exit wound." He mumbled, brows furrowed in either concern or concentration as he spoke.

She swallowed and squeezed my eyes shut momentarily, with every heartbeat the throbbing growing worse.

"Bleeding extremely heavily. They'll be here in less than a minute but I've got to tourniquet it."

The heat surged up and down the limb, her pants' leg soaking through and through.

He unzipped the pocket from a bag just below his hip and began to unravel a thick tenser bandage, simultaneously laying it across the wound and beginning to wrap it securely. She dug half-moons into my palms with my nails, and nearly screamed, only able to muffle the sounds with the flesh of her cheek.

"We'll get through this. Deep breaths for me Kiden. In and out, try to look at me, look at my face. Hey, Kiden? Just look. Ten more seconds. I can see the headlights okay?" He paused his speaking to tie off the wrap, looking up and waving his arms in flailing, chaotic moments to draw the attention of the truck approaching. "They're here Kid, we're getting out of here. Just hold on."

Rain dropped numbly against the skin of her hands, her face, legs, everywhere. The once whistling wind was silent compared to the blood rushing in her ears. Past knowledge and experience was all it took for her to realize the bullet had punctured something important. Femoral? Maybe.

If so, was she going to die?

_Do not panic._

_The femoral artery, which passes fairly close to the outer surface of the upper thighs, divides into smaller branches to provide blood to muscles and superficial tissues in the thigh._

_Loss of consciousness in about thirty seconds for the average adult male and death in about three minutes if the bleeding is unrestricted._

Average adult male. Thirty seconds. All at once, the noise disappea-

**Okay. Heya everyone, I hope this wasn't too short or boring or whatever, but it's only the intro, right? I just saw Thor 2 recently and I've had this idea brewing for an Avengers fanfic with an OC of mine that... I've never actually put to use, come to think of it.**

**But yes. Thor 2 = Sudden urge to begin writing again.**

**Hope you enjoyed it somewhat anyways! Leave a review if you can, I'd love to know your thoughts on the beginning. **

**Until next time friends.**


	2. Shock Comes in Pairs

_Disclaimer: I do not own marvel nor am I affiliated to them in any way. Marvel holds full rights over their characters. The plot and original characters belong to me._

"Kiden?"

"The meds will hardly be worn off. She may not even be aware of where she is based on what we gave her."

"Can you wiggle your fingers Kid?"

Ringing, intruding noises broke through the haze and all at once her senses began returning to her. The familiar beeping of a monitor somewhere near by – no, several monitors all at once. The piercing fluorescent lighting that never failed to hand out headaches to all who looked at it. The stiffness associated with the drugs they gave the most severe of cases. Most of all the disgustingly sterile fragrance wafting through the air and bringing her back to all of her past visits to this place.

This place being the infirmary, or the hospital wing as some called it. Kiden tilted her head to glance sidelong at the screen that would display her vitals, but it had been strategically angled so she couldn't see the data.

Something else was out of place. She placed her hands palm down on the bed and began to push herself upwards, only to be scolded by the nurse and told to lie down again. Her gaze drifted over to where Natasha Romanoff was standing at the foot of the bed. Her arms were folded across her chest and she looked exceptionally uncomfortable, biting her lower lip contemplatively and mustering up a weak smile that really only managed to reach the edges of her lips.

Why was she looking at her like that?

"What?" She asked. Well, croaked.

Natasha indicated with her eyes exactly what. She simply stared at Kiden.

"Agent please lay back down," the nurse said as she began sitting up again, "you've just lost a substantial amount of blood and are not to be-"

"Nurse. I think it would be best if you left." A voice spoke from near the door, gruff and whom she recognized to be Clint. "Thanks for the help. We've got it from here."

The woman looked between the now standing Agent Barton and Kiden as if she were having conflicting on thoughts on how far either would go to enforce the fact that this was her cue to leave. Thankfully she decided against arguing and shook her head, muttering one last 'You shouldn't be moving at all' before she departed.

Clint nodded towards Kiden. His eyes looked fairly sunken and she took note that he was still wearing his clothes from their mission. He spoke in a softer tone than he had used with the nurse, "Welcome back to the land of the living," grinning humourlessly before continuing, "I'm so sorry Kiden. This is all on me. I shouldn't have given you the all clear until I was certain-"

"Clint, stop." She leaned back against the bed and the beginnings of a forced smile curved her lips. Her usual near-black skin had taken on a sort of gray tone, eyes hollow and surrounded by purple and just more… Gray. She didn't feel quite a part of the land of the living nor did she look the part. But still, she was alive and breathing thanks to Clint's actions. The last thing he should possibly be doing was apologizing, especially after they had known each other for so long.

"You're the reason I'm here right now, okay? Let's just put this behind us. Mission accomplished. Just a little flesh wound, right?" Kiden was aware something was wrong. Every instinct she had was practically screaming, the sirens blaring in her head. She was testing the waters, to see whether they would tell her or let her figure it out on her own. An interrogation tactic in actuality.

Natasha's grim expression notified her that she knew exactly what Kiden was trying to do.

"Kide your leg… The bullet practically severed your femoral artery." Clint frowned deeply and she watched as he raked his mind for the proper words to form whatever it was he was trying to say. Her attention never left his face. She was becoming too uneasy to focus on anything else, the drugs still actively wearing off. "The- The blood flow. It was completely cut off. I thought you were a goner."

_Meeting Clint when he was still a carnie and her family was in the circus business. Befriending and joining SHIELD with him; the acrobat and the archer. From then on Kiden had put her utmost trust in him._

Now his expression said it all. Everything was beginning to come together. The tourniquet he had used, the excessive amount of vital monitors. The fatigue and the haziness she felt from meds just beginning to allow her back into consciousness after being under for so long.

Nevertheless, she still wanted answers.

"How long was I out?" Kiden asked quietly. She heard her heart rate pick up simultaneously with the tones coming from the machinery next to the bed.

Clint looked over to Natasha once before he spoke: "A couple days now. The surgery itself only took forty five minutes at most."

Kiden dipped her head in a nod, the stoic façade in place to keep her expression in check wavering slightly as she considered what he was saying. Gripping the blanket that was draped from her abdomen down, she began to pull it aside.

"We'll give you a few minutes alone." Natasha said as she began towards the door, pausing only to shoot a look at Clint over her shoulder.

Swallowing with difficulty, the archer hesitated to respond at first, looking to Kiden with possibly the most pained expression she had ever seen come from him.

She pushed a smile forwards. "It's okay Clint."

A lie.

They all knew it.

"If there's anything at all that I can do-"

"Clint. Really, it's fine."

His feeling responsible for what happened wasn't making the situation any easier to comprehend. Of course it was a reasonable reaction, seeing as it was in fact _their_ mission. _They_ were partners and _they_ were responsible for one another. But she needn't reiterate the fact that his actions had saved her life in the first place.

With a parting nod the agent turned to the door and left along with Natasha.

Alone with her thoughts, Kiden finally pulled the covers aside to reveal what was beneath.

Although it was hard to make out anything under the thick layering of bandages, she could see where the stump stopped approximately. It was one of the higher amputations she had seen in her time. Closer to the hip than the knee, with tubes running out from beneath the gauze to extract residual fluid from the surgery.

Her heart must have doubled pace, throat closing up and eyes widening.

Kiden's lips pressed together firmly as she slowly, less-than-calmly pulled the blanket back in place, and lay back again.

A thousand thoughts fought for the forefront of her mind. She ground her teeth together and tried not to make a sound, nostrils flaring with every deepened breath, so deep that feelings of light-headedness began to swim over her. Even still she was on the verge of snapping. Just absolutely rearing back and causing chaos. How could this have happened?! They had been careful. They had been cautious.

Had the attacker been aiming?

Of all places she could have been hit.

What good was a field agent without a leg?

_I'm alive, but now what?_

Her chest tightened until it felt like a weight had been dropped on it, crushing her respiratory system and finishing off what the bullet could not.

_I need to move. I need to walk. I need to do _something.

_Too bad I can't._

The place where her leg used to be was beginning to throb painfully and she considered calling in a doctor or a nurse to request meds, but immediately ruled that out, since the pain gave her something to focus on other than the future.

A wave of nausea came over her and passed within the next few minutes.

After that, another, until she couldn't take being stationary any longer.

Beginning with the stickers on her torso, she began pulling off the cords and clips and whatever else would give way to her hasty tugging. A handful of nurses burst in through the door once she had just managed to get the last of the ridiculous wires off of her.

"Agent Sibel, please calm down!"

White noise.

"Please we're going to have to sedate you if you aren't able to comply."

Natasha edged through the wall of nurses, looking furious. Clint was only a step behind, but so were the security that held both of the agents back while the nurses struggled to get things back in order.

"Her heart rate is too elevated."

"I'm sorry Agent."

* * *

The chains clinked together through the spacious corridors, but Loki hardly paid them any mind. The golden walls lead up to a massive vaulted ceiling as he approached the throne which the Allfather occupied. Thor stood to his right, and watching from before the dais Loki could relate the thunder god's position to that of an obedient dog. Only Thor looked like he was doing everything in his power to restrain himself.

How touching.

"Loki…" Frigga stood to his right as well, her arm extending forwards from her side more so as a gesture than anything, since there was no possible way he could have taken her hand with the amount of guard he had encircling him.

Loki turned to her and he shook his head. No more sympathies for the God of Mischief. The emotional exhaustion had taken nearly every inch of life he had left.

No more.

He hadn't the capacity for any more.

Odin's voice was without emotion. "Loki Laufeyson, son of the deceased Laufey and heir to the throne of Jotunheimr. Step forwards." Thor flinched, the neutral mask he had put forwards giving way to grit teeth as he withheld his reaction to his father's words.

Loki looked to Thor and shook his head again.

"For your crimes, including treason, defiance of direct orders from a king, and mass genocide, you have been sentenced to punishment of death. Are there any objections to this ruling?" Loki was forced to his knees, his head bowed.

He had never understood why death was seen as a punishment easier than imprisonment in some cases: Why the worst of criminals did not deserve death. Did they not feel as he felt right then? He was born for so much more than this! To die at the feet of the Allfather, with no legacy to leave behind… No throne absent and no people to mourn for him.

If he was capable, he might have shown how much he cared. But his energy was diminished and it would achieve nothing, so why try?

_Because I cannot die now. Not now. Not yet._

_Just one last trick. _

_But I'm so tired._

Whatever; Thor and Frigga could care in his place. Death would only take an instant, then he would have to inwardly debate no longer. Just let things be finished.

A guard stepped up next to Odin and began reading off his final rights, followed up by his crimes. Loki looked up at Odin and his eyes lit up, burned in his skull, the stiffness in his muscles evaporating.

_You will die, and it will be at my hand._

Boiling rage threatened to overflow. He dropped his head again and bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, and the metallic taste was sour to his silver tongue as the sounds of footfalls nearing him from the rear grew louder until he was certain that his executioner had finally arrived.

A muffled sob resounded from where Frigga had been standing, and Loki shut his eyes the moment the sound hit his ears. Why was she crying for him? After all he had done - still planned to do even when he reached Hel – it wasn't possible her grief was meant for him.

_I'm sorry Mother._

His every breath sounded too loud for such an open space. His heart pounded and threatened to break free of his chest, stabbing pain branched out across his slumped form. Was this to be his final moment? Loki would not be able to tell a lie to get out of this. His skill set, his training, his experience, everything boiled down to this and now he was useless.

If only he bothered enough to try.

He heard the rushing sound immediately in his ears as it began. It felt like being stuck in the midst of strong wind, coming from all directions. If Frigga was still crying for him, Loki could not have heard her even if he wanted to.

This was the most favoured form of death sentence among criminals – the soul sceptre, they called it – since it was painless and took ten seconds at most. Just a single weapon placed at the base of the accused's head, drawing out magic first, then energy, and then finally sucking the last of the life force from the being which it was placed upon. Loki had watched too many lives be lost to this form of execution. He could count the seconds down as he felt the familiar tingle of magic be torn from his very soul.

_Everything will be over soon. I don't care. I don't care._

Thor, however, did. "Loki!" The hammer nearly skimmed the top of his head as it took out the executioner stationed behind him. He heard the drawing of swords, weapons, Thor shout in his ears as he was brought to his feet and shaken forcefully out of his own train of thought. "You must move brother! We don't have much time!" The dark god was unresponsive, the words not making sense to his ears.

His legs wouldn't function for him, eyes glazed over and searching Thor's face. Was any of this real? This couldn't possibly be happening. Every inch of his body felt sore all at once as he threatened to collapse.

"Sif!" Thor turned over his shoulder, one arm wrapped around Loki to either assure he did not fall to the ground entirely or make a run for it. The latter: ha! That was likely.

"We've got this Thor, go!" Sif replied, fending off a number of guards furnished with weapons and converging on her slowly. She swung the duel-bladed staff like it was nothing, locking eyes with Loki for only a split second. Still that look was enough to convey to him all he needed to know about her motivations; she too cared. This was real.

They had planned this.

But was it too late? The effects of the soul sceptre rendered him absolutely useless. He could almost feel his life teetering on the edge of the world, threatening to dissolve into nothing. Thor had failed.

"Stay with me brother. We are going to safety. I will find help."

Fandral and Volstagg had taken to arms too, grinning jovially as they cleared a path for the brothers after Thor had broken with his bare hands the chains that constrained Loki.

The thunder god supported Loki like a near deadweight, with his arm draped across the back of his neck, gripping Mjolnir with the opposite hand and setting aside any who dared to cross their path. In their wake a trail of fallen guards lay.

"Hold on Loki, just keep your eyes focused ahead. Not much longer." Thor donned a look of determination as he felt himself being hoisted up on to horseback the moment that they had cleared the Palace's grand front entrance. The world lilted around him as the steed took off towards the Bifrost.

Asgard's ground shifted to the magnificent array of colours that decorated the rainbow bridge. He was completely leaned against the nape of the horse, every breath coming with the possibility of being his last on this final stretch.

His magic was gone.

All of the energy in his being sucked out, it hardly felt like he could lift a finger against any who opposed him.

Loki realized he was in fact almost dead.

_Why couldn't he just let me die in peace? Isn't that what I want?_

Lifted off the horse again by none other than Thor, his arm thrown around a shoulder, feet dragging without any effort at all to stand as they entered the newly reformed station between worlds. Muffled yelling. More yelling and then pure light and a plethora of colour which he associated with travelling to another realm: but which one would possibly be able to aid this dying God?

If only he could open his eyes.

**Hi again. First official chapter, wow. I would love to hear if this length is okay or if you wonderful people would prefer longer/shorter/whatever else there is? You'll have to excuse the amateur writing as that is something that will hopefully only get better as the story progresses.**

**Reviews make me stupidly happy, so if you've got time leaving one it would be much appreciated! Thanks for reading. (:**


	3. Of Arrivals and Impressions

_Disclaimer: I do not own marvel nor am I affiliated to them in any way. Marvel holds full rights over their characters. The plot and original characters belong to me._

"I DO NOT CARE IF WE ARE UNWELCOME HERE! THIS IS A HEALING WARD, IS IT NOT?"

The moment her eyes opened she was hit with the force of a freight train right in the face. Crippling pain seized her head and the ceiling blurred as she squinted, turning her face to the side and away from the brightness to get a better look at whatever commotion was slowly moving closer to the room.

"Bring him this way please."

"Get Fury down here, now. We need clearance before we can do anything to help him."

"Yes m'am."

"Right in here."

Two massive figures burst into the room, tailed by multiple others in familiar uniform hospital scrubs. One doctor seemed to be speaking into an earpiece with a troubled expression, either arguing or negotiating with someone on the other end. He didn't look too pleased either way.

"Yes sir. I understand Director. Thank-you sir." The doctor dropped his hand from the earpiece and hastily crossed to the formerly empty other bed, Kiden watching the entire ordeal with intense curiosity. The two who had been leading the group were obscured from view by the curtain that divided the room between her bed and whoever it was that now occupied the other.

"Can you help him?" Whoever was speaking, she could have sworn without the disorienting effects of the drugs that putting the voice to a name would be easily done.

"For now we're to make sure he's in stable condition. Further than that… We need to be cleared by Director Fury first. I'm sorry."

"No," he stepped back so he was in Kiden's sightline, "no, you have my thanks. Is it alright if I stay?" Inhumanly built, complete with chain-link sleeves and a crimson cape so bright it nearly made her headache worse, the God of Thunder stood a few feet away from her bed. Kiden had seen Thor during New York, and she had glimpsed at his file as well as seen the tape of the New Mexico interrogation Coulson had done. But why he would be back and demanding medical assistance was lost on her. She absently pondered the idea that this was just a hallucination, that maybe she had completely lost her mind along with her leg and a portion of the blood in her body. If the idea didn't sound so terrifying she may have outwardly laughed right there.

"We don't usually allow others inside when working with patients, my apologies. You're free to wait right out there until we're finished though."

Thor nodded solemnly. "Thank-you Doctor." And just like that he turned and walked out, knuckles strained white with tension on the hand he was grasping the hammer with.

Kiden watched the doorway even after he had departed, and other than her brows creasing faintly in confusion, not showing an inch of the puzzlement she felt on the inside. She had been too out of it to make out the person Thor had brought in and with the curtain in place there wasn't a chance of her being able to just simply look over and identify the patient, but it was evident that whoever it happened to be was of high importance to Thor. She distinctly remembered a 'him' from the conversation between the doctors and the God as well.

All of this new activity was almost enough to distract her from the harsh reality before her. Her hand gingerly drifted to her hip, too numb still to feel anything other than the anger that lingered in her mind, tensing her jaw and blocking out the bumbling and dialogue going on between the assorted medical personnel tending to Thor's friend. She still could not come to terms with the fact that she, Kiden—grown up in a family of circus performers, little sister and roughhousing opponent to not two but four older brothers—was short a limb. She lifted her hands to her head and tried to massage her temples to assuage the pain going on beneath the rough bare skin.

"What now?" She said, speaking absolutely and thoroughly to herself. This injury was irrevocable. There were prosthetics, and physical therapy, and support… She couldn't allow Clint to feel bad about this incident. She would have to put up the exact emotional barriers she had been taught to build through the training SHIELD had given her.

Kiden forced herself to harden her features as she thought of what the hell was going to happen. Would Fury stick her behind a desk and some fancy Stark tech computer for the rest of her days?

_No, because this isn't the worst thing that has happened. This will pass._

The monitor warned her to calm down in the form of incessant beeping and she very nearly began ripping cords off left and right again. Although now it wasn't just her heart rate that was being tracked, but the pace of her new neighbour. Twice the frustrating, sleep-depriving, stupid fucking machi-

"Where is he?"

"Director if you would allow me to explain why I brought him here-"

"I did not _ask _for an explanation Thor. We'll be talking later." As his voice grew louder Kiden hid her tightly balled fists beneath the sheets of the hospital bed, eyeing the door silently until he entered, clad in his signature leather coat and looking a good deal more pissed off than the usual. His one eye flickered over in her direction, accompanied with a hardly noticeable dip of his head in greeting. She did the same in return.

"Director Fury, sir." One of the doctors walked out from behind the curtain to intercept him and draw his attention away from Kiden.

The taller man crossed his arms, "What can you tell me Doctor? Make it useful, I don't care about the details."

"Well, we don't actually know what's wrong… Per se. No visible injuries. No physical trauma. It's just like his system is only functioning, oh maybe half as well as it should be. Possibly less than that. Heart rate is practically halved, blood pressure is gravely low, respiratory system is barely even working. His temperature is below freezing but that only coincides with what we had previously from the cell's readings on the helicarrier."

Fury's glare did not shift whatsoever throughout. Kiden on the other hand knew exactly who was on the other side of that curtain and the nausea was making a comeback in the pit of her abdomen. "Summarize." The Director said.

"It's almost like he's half way between dead and alive."

"But he will live, correct?"

"With the proper care and medical treatments, we believe so."

"Do whatever it is you need to do for now and nothing above that. Are we clear?"

"Yes sir." With that the doctor returned to aid the others with one God of Mischief in particular while Fury too turned to depart, leaving Kiden to her imagination once more, which was never a good thing at all.

There was always the option of throwing another tantrum for the sole reason that being under due to the influence of drugs meant she did not have to think about anything. Anything including the fact that her new (temporary? There was a chance he could die) roommate was currently Thor's brother, Loki, a person whom her opinion of had remained fairly ambiguous throughout the course of his prior visit to Earth, in all honesty. But to sleep, as defenseless as she was, in the same room as him? She could already envision the chaos that would ensue once one decided to do something about the situation of being in the presence of the other. Gut instincts told her he wouldn't take lightly to being looked over by humans, let alone stuck in the same room as one until he was in stable condition.

Judging by the news the doctors had delivered to Fury, if he survived his stay wouldn't be a short one either. Kiden herself would be fitted with some sort of prosthetic in a matter of days if things went in her favour, but then it would be weeks before she was allowed to do anything remotely similar to physical activity. Right now walking was the goal in mind, and that thought _hurt_.

_Walking. I am pathetic._

Kiden reached over for the control pad and hit the button that would summon a nurse to the room so she could request meds for the leg pain. She could have sworn her foot was hurting for two seconds there, and quite frankly she had no intentions of letting the phantom pain get to her mentally.

_I'm going to get out of here. I just need to sleep._

Maybe when she woke up, none of this would have happened. This fresh hell would just be a figment of her stupid, stupid overactive imagination.

* * *

Beeping and breathing. Beeping and breathing.

He could feel their presence in the air, and even without his magic he knew they were looking at him. Loki did not open his eyes or move just yet, mulling over his options.

His memory went back to the Bifrost and the time before that, when Thor had gone against any of his expectations, any of _anyone's _expectations, the Allfather's ruling, and he had saved Loki's life.

Or maybe he had failed in the saving part and Loki was currently being stared down by the devil.

He decided whoever it was had no plans of making a move, his words were: "Is there a purpose for your staring?"

"Just waiting to see how long you planned on pretending I'm not here." The voice of a woman came from the room off to his right. Definitely a female voice, but a note deeper, and with a rasp that didn't sound well to his ears, "Why are you here?"

Loki emitted a breathless laugh and instantly regretted it as his chest seized up with ever-sharp pain. He coughed abruptly before answering, "I am asking myself that same question. Where is here anyways?"

"I never knew you were blind."

"Rude one, aren't you?" He took the hint anyways and slowly opened his eyes, allowing them to adjust to his dim surroundings, the only light coming from the slightly blue-hued ones in the hallway and the plethora of portable machinery arranged around him. Lifting his hand to closer examine the inter-venus currently lodged into the underside of his wrist, his brows furrowed deeply and he gave it an experimental tug.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." She said pointedly.

Loki let his hand fall slack again and shifted his head on the pile of cement-like pillows to better look at the source of the irritating voice. When he did a part of him was positively shocked by what he took in just from seeing her. Shaven head, nearly ebony skin that looked like almost all the colour had been drained and only fragments had come back so far. She had strong features, a prominent jawline and angular eyebrows that forced one to look her in the eyes. Loki thought he could make out black ink beginning at the base of her wrist, but his capability of seeing in the poor excuse for light was greatly diminished.

Most of all his eyes were drawn down to where the lump in the sheets ended. Where her left leg should have been the blanket simply dropped and there was empty space on the bed, with a couple of cylindrical pieces running out from beneath.

"Take a picture?" She said after a while. Inwardly she was thankful he had taken his time to scrutinize her, since it gave her time to do the same for him, and she came out victorious; he looked like crap. She related their visual exchange to sizing up an opponent before a fight and this thought almost seemed funny, considering the horrible shape both of them were in.

However the threat of being killed in her sleep was beginning to look less likely than before and that was a silver lining if there ever was one. "You're in a SHIELD base. One of our sea ones just off the east coast of Florida is my best guess."

That caused a change in his blank expression. Loki's jaw tensed and she could nearly see him biting down on his tongue based on the look that came forth just through his eyes, which would have been expressive even if there were no light at all. "Was there another with me when I arrived?"

"Thor had to go speak with Fury, but he was right outside a couple of minutes ago."

Loki gave himself a moment to absorb the sudden onslaught of information coming at him. First off, the fact that the Bifrost had taken them to a SHIELD base couldn't possibly be a coincidence, which meant it had to be a part of Thor's 'rescue' plan. Secondly, this woman knew who Thor was and she was currently in the heart of a SHIELD base, so she must have some knowledge on his identity just as well. It puzzled him as to why she had not said anything just yet. Loki could sense it was not out of fear, but what then?

Lastly, where was he to go from here? He doubted Fury would be too mirthful on the prospect of Loki taking up valuable bed space in a hospital owned by the very organization he had made an enemy out of during his visit.

"You never gave me an answer to my question, you know."

He ignored her momentarily whilst absently allowing himself to wonder why Thor could not have just let him die. It would certainly be the solution to many problems.

_Is that what I want? _

_I don't know any more._

For the time being, Loki would have to rest and see how much of his strength he could recover, if any at all. Who was to know if the effects of the soul sceptre's power were temporary or completely irreversible? No one had outlived the weapon so far, so knowledge on the subject was minimal to the point that it did not even exist.

"I am here because Thor decided to bring me here," he rotated his head to look at her only partially, so he could just see her out of the corner of his eye, "does that answer satisfy you?" Despite his fatigue (or was it because of his fatigue?) the words came out sounding offensive. Loki felt excessively caustic, more so than usual given the current situation just beginning to dawn on him, and she could see how quickly his mood was shifting.

Kiden stared at him with her lips pressed together for a second while she deliberated how to respond to him without inciting a reaction she wasn't in the proper position to deal with.

When she did speak, she positively deadpanned, "Just try to keep your head. If you try anything they'll put you out for sure, and then they'll tell Fury. And being who you are, I doubt he'll give you a second chance."

It wasn't quite the reaction he had been expecting to come from her. Perhaps he was just so used to dealing with hot-tempered Asgardians, and a number of tremendously malevolent beings from the darker parts of the universe. That it was plausible he had forgotten all about how calculating and careful Midgardians could be, such as one Natasha Romanoff, whom he would never forget his encounter with on SHIELD's infernal nuisance of an aircraft.

This woman almost inconceivably reminded him of the aforementioned 'Avenger'. In fact the more he considered this, the more he decided just how possible it was that this woman and the other agent knew each other, and that they had likely worked together at some point within SHIELD.

But he didn't care.

Correct?

He no longer had any Asgard to go back to. He doubted his visit would even last very long, seeing as Odin was probably already dispatching his most trusted to come and retrieve the newly powerless god this very second, if he hadn't already. If Loki didn't die first.

The most Thor would get is a firm scolding and an early bedtime.

"Loki?" He still couldn't orient himself to accept the slightly coarse quality to her voice, akin to that you might hear if someone had put off drinking any water for a couple of days. This of course arose the question: How fresh was her injury?

Loki fixated his gaze on her face and tipped his head in acknowledgement of his name.

Kiden continued, "When Thor brought you here you were nearly dead."

His muscles stiffened as he replied "Was that meant to be some form of question?"

She shook her head. "Just that no one expected you two to make an appearance again after New York."

"How much do you know of my actions?"

"I was there working with a ground team during the fight."

"So what it is you wish to know then, unless this conversation is completely without point?"

Yawning largely, Kiden twisted to return to her back and waved a dismissive hand, "Without point I guess." She shut her mouth and rubbed the side of her face with her palm, a new head ache coming on, most likely from deprivation of fresh air since being stuck inside the hospital room for whatever number of days it had been. At the least Loki's arrival meant things were going to get more eventful, though likely not enough to draw her mind away from what was going to happen to her in a physical sense.

She hadn't even shut her eyes when he spoke up, his tone of voice having softened considerably since the earlier small earlier outburst. "How long ago did it happen? Your leg."

"Less than a week." Kiden said, and already felt herself wanting to move off the topic. He seemed to catch that—much to her gratitude—and shifted to asking something else.

"I assume you have a name?"

For the final time she turned to face him instead of the ceiling, and leaned as much off the edge of the bed as she dared without disturbing the multitude of attachments protruding from her at the moment, to extend her arm and say "Kiden Sibel."

He mirrored her movements, but with the much larger wingspan was able to clear the excess space between them without too much difficulty on his part. Just pain from the muscles he had to utilize to move, "Pleasure."

His hand was just as cold as she had been expecting, and the fact that she appeared to_ smirk_ at him when they shook hands, of all things she could have done, almost made Loki smile.

Almost.

**Voila. Here it is, chapter two. Looking over things now I've decided from here on out the chapters are going to start being longer. If I can manage to brainstorm enough, double the size of this one. I hope that sounds somewhat reasonable?**

**Remember to follow and/or review if you liked something or let me know if you didn't! I'm always open to suggestions and criticism will not hurt my feelings friends. Until next time!**


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